Tales of Crimson Nights
by Meepa
Summary: Ryou's POV version of Chibi B Channie's ToCN. Ryou's a slave, and he and his friend Malik are taken in by two...very interesting people. Their names are Bakura and Marik. They are vampires. What's in store for them now? MB, MR, MMBR


Waah! Before you be mean to me, know that I DID get teh Chibi B's permission! I wanted to write Ryou's POV from her story; Tales of Crimson Nights. Soooo....yeah. XD

Anyways hope you like this one, and go read her story, too!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or the plot. Again, I DID get permission from Chibi B Channie before writing this. Thanks for reading this, though! :D

_Tales of Crimson Nights; One_

I suppose I should start from the beginning if I'm to tell you about my life... Well, starting from the day my life changed, anyway. And it was thanks to one man...or, immortal, if you will. You should understand later...

My name is Ryou, and I was always treated badly all my life... until this one particular moment... this is what changed my life...forever.

The day, or night (either one--I wasn't sure), started off like every other one... Father hit me. Over and over and over, until it hurt to move, or speak, or breathe. I wanted so badly to cry, but as always, I held it back as long as I could, lest I be beaten worse. But there was something different about today. Father held me down, on my stomach, and bound my hands together with rope, and my legs as well. I begged him to loosen the bindings, because it was holding my body much too tightly, and it was taking skin with it when I tried to struggle away. But the only reply I gained was a slap. He told me to shut up, like he always did. But he'd always leave me to my pain after it was done. This time... this time he dragged me out of our small house, and into the public eye. I begged him to tell me what he was doing with me, and when he told me, I wanted to die. "You're to be sold," were the only words that actually sunk in. I vaguely heard him saying something about being tired of me being around. I did not want to be sold!!

I screamed and thrashed, loosening the rope slightly as I kicked, though he paid no attention. Finally, I got it to where I could almost slip one of my feet out. I somehow managed, and with my adrenaline, I broke free from his grasp, running as fast as I could. Next I knew, something hit my ankle, and a sudden scorching pain fled from there up my leg, causing me to fall over with a cry. Tears flooded down my face. I knew I couldn't get up--the pain was too much! So I lay in the dirt-street, sobbing, hoping and praying someone, _anyone_, would help me. I didn't care who!

I was pulled up by my hair, and held tightly, as he rebound my legs; cries escaping my throat when he touched anywhere near my right ankle. Looking down, I noticed a rather large rock sitting innocently there. He'd....he'd thrown a rock to break my leg! I could also see my ankle was turning violet--it was definitely broken. And I knew from experience, if it didn't heal properly, I probably wouldn't be able to walk right ever again. This only caused me more anguish and I cried more, not hearing the sharp names my own father was throwing at me.

He dragged me back to the little clump of dirt, and pulled me to my knees. My tattered shirt was torn more than it was, thanks to the harsh treatment I was getting from the ground. The man above me shouted to the world it seemed, my situation. Several townspeople gathered around, to see the slave that was being sold. Another heartbroken sob escaped my throat at his words, my mind racing and my ankle burning and throbbing. All I wanted to get away, but I couldn't. He had tied my ankle tighter this time; it was cutting off the circulation.

I was scared. I won't deny it. I was so very, very scared. Never had I experienced this before, and now I thought myself lucky for it. He asked if there was anyone who'd be willing to take me in, and that caused me to snap. "_No_!!" I cried, trying desperately to stand up, though he just pushed me back where I was; knees on the ground, and he hit me. I yelped, and fell on my side, not being able to do anything, since I couldn't move my hands. He hit me again, only this time it was with something much different from his hand. A searing slash cut through my back, causing me to scream my pain to the ground, sucking in dirt. I sobbed more, as he picked me up by my hands, lifting them over my head. "Please!" I cried, hysterical now. "Let me go--I beg of you!" But he wouldn't hear of it, only jerking my hands back further, in a position they shouldn't be in. "Stop it!" I screamed, thrashing, causing my ankle to twist. "Please!!" With that last scream, he pushed me forward, causing me to skid my knees, and land in the middle of the crowd that had gathered, some because of my screaming, no doubt.

I lifted my head to scan the people, trying to find someone who would help--I still didn't care whom. Suddenly, I felt the whip come crashing down upon my tender back once more. I screamed. I screamed so loud, it must have tore my throat. I couldn't tell if it was tears or blood falling down my face, nor did I care. Please...someone... help me...Someone--"Please!" I cried aloud, hoping someone would come answer my cry.

"I told you too many times to shut up, Boy!" my father snarled, kicking my back, under the whip marks, for good measure. I only sobbed more, knowing now that there was no one who would save me. I heard him over my moans of pain and cries faintly turn to the crowd. "Now," he started, speaking to the people for the first time. "Who wants to purchase this nice slave?" I just lowered my head and cried more, hoping to drown out the rest. But I couldn't--not what he said next.

"He isn't very strong, but he's quite the looker! A perfect bed slave, if anything else." I wailed, not knowing any other way to express my emotions. My father--my own father, was selling me off as some....some bed slave! A common, filthy whore... This realization caused me to cry more, curling my body up into a ball as best I could in my current situation. Why did he have to speak as though I couldn't hear? It hurt so badly, I though my heart would literally burst, tearing in half and spilling blood upon my body, forcing me to leave this world. I surely wouldn't object to it, as of now.

Suddenly, I heard the three words that sealed my fate for the rest of my life. "I'll take him." My face snapped up and at first I thought I'd looked into a mirror, but then I realized that there was, in fact, a man with white hair, as stark as my own, standing in the crowd. The way he said it....it was as if I wasn't anything more than an item simply being auctioned off! This made more tears fall from my eyes, though I no longer cared at all. I was sold--sold to some man who would probably take me first chance when he got me to his home. I choked, closing my eyes tightly. I didn't want this life!

"That will be ten gold coins," came my father's voice from behind me. I cracked open my eyes and looked up into those of my new owner, sadness wallowing in mine. How could my life only worth so little...? I tried to tell myself I was dreaming, only dreaming.... it did little good. The pain was far too real for this to be a mere dream. I sobbed out my desperation once more, before the man above me gave me his first orders.

"Come," he said, "On your feet," I shook and tried to push myself up, but I couldn't--not with the rope around my legs. I looked down at them, then up to my new....master. I hoped he understood. My eyes widened as he suddenly pulled out a dagger, leaning down. I thought he would understand! I didn't want to be punished for something I couldn't do! I screamed and leapt away from him, trying to put distance in-between us.

"Please don't hurt me," I begged, feeling my body tremble. I knew there was no way I could escape this... My will was now broken. I lifted my tear-filled eyes up to him, hoping to gain, if nothing, at least some pity. There was absolutely nothing I could do... "Please...No more pain..."

"I'm not going to hurt you,"

Hearing this surprised me, and my eyes widened slightly. Was he trying to reassure me? "Now, be still." he commanded, before reaching over my body to get to my ankle. Regardless of whether I believed him or not, my body flinched, preparing itself for more pain. But when none came, I opened my eyes. He was...cutting the ropes. I wanted to cry I was so relieved, though I didn't. Then he moved to my hands, and I once more became slightly uneasy. But again, it faded away after the bindings were removed. There were red and raw marks on my wrists and ankles, where the rope had been tied overly tight. Oh, it felt so good to be free from those!

Remembering his demand, I slowly, and shakily, tried to get to my feet. It was easier than it had been, though I couldn't put weight on my right leg, else I'd collapse. My lower half was almost asleep, not having been able to move for so long. I felt so...weak. I wasn't sure how long I could remain standing. Testingly, I tried to walk, but it was my mistake in the end. I cried out and fell to the ground, landing at the other's feet. Oh, God, did it hurt! I wanted to scream, but I wasn't sure my voice was even there anymore...

I vaguely heard father say something about 'it' being broken, and my new owner turned to look at him.

"How?" he asked, and I almost thought I was hallucinating when I saw his eyes flash. Was he...angry I was hurt? Oh, please don't let him take it out me! It wasn't my fault!

"I did it," came the smug reply. "The little whelp kept trying to run away," he began, "So, I broke his ankle to prevent any further escapades." I let out another soft cry at this. He didn't even care...though I shouldn't expect him to. When had father ever cared about me?

I nearly screamed loud enough to wake the dead when I felt hands on me, lifting me up. I tried to struggle, but it all was happening too fast, and before I knew it, I was clinging to the brown-eyed man for dear life, lest he drop me. Why was...he carrying me? I closed my eyes tightly, trying to wake myself up. This had to be a dream...

But I was ripped from my attempts all too quickly.

"Hey, Bakura!"

At this call, I felt my new master stop walking and turn. He hefted me closer, though I'm not sure if that was intentional or not...

"Look what I bought!" I opened my eyes to see what all of this was about, but doing so made me want to cry more. A tanned male, who was standing next to a shorter, nearly identical boy, a leash trailing up into the taller's hand. Both looked alike at first sight, though I knew immediately they were not, in any way, the same person. Oh, God.... no, please no... That man has Malik! And not only that, but he had him gagged and tied and on a leash! I was about to cry out, when my exhaustion hit my hard. My eyes drooped, and I fell against the other, not having any will or strength left to protest. Malik would have to wait, though I didn't want him to... I was out before I was aware of it, having nightmares plague me all the while. Though, through those frightful dreams, I was almost sure I could hear something about someone biting something and then laughter.

---

I awoke with a start to Malik's furious shouting and heavy banging. My eyes shot open and I blinked, completely unaware of where I was. All I could tell was that we were in a dark room, lit only by various candles around on the wall, a large oak door blocking our only way out. I also noted that I was on a very soft bed--one of the two that were in the rather large room. "Malik?" I asked, fear rising in my throat. The distant throbbing in my ankle was hitting me, and refused to stop. Memories flashed before my eyes, and I burst into tears before the other could even answer. My best and only friend rushed to me, and held me close. I could smell blood on him, and that only made me cry harder. I wanted to help comfort _him_, but I was too weak to even stop my own tears. I could only gently hold him back.

It took a while, but finally, I managed to stop my crying, and looked the other's wounds over. They were pretty bad. I eventually found something to wrap them with, hoping I would do all right with first-aid. I cleaned and bandaged his cuts and bloodied bruises as best I could with what I had. His hands were raw and streaked with crimson, from banging on the door. That's really what I was most concerned about. I wrapped those tenderly, though I didn't do a very good job, I'm afraid to say. Afterwards, he thanked me and hugged me close once more, which I didn't mind at all. Together, hidden under the covers of that one bed, we fell asleep together, my mind being content for the first time in a long while.

---

Hope you guys liked this! Please tell me what you think, and go read Chibi's story, if you haven't already!

-Cecilia


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